Strike of Knowledge (Part 10)

Chapter 10: Pretty suicide

The week at home was the longest, most miserable time I had endured so far. Mom went to work the next day and Ashley went off to school like usual. Except that all of us knew that nothing had been the same for us. Mom had given up going to the gym and came home from work more exhausted than ever. Ashley lost her cheerfulness at dinner and even her grades were starting to slip.

On the one hand, mom would feel relieved that she got out of a long term toxic relationship, saying things like “that jerk deserved it. Maybe living alone will teach him not to impose his views on others.” Other times, she would break down in tears: “It’s all my fault. I should never have let him go! Now I have ruined everything for my children!” Ashley and I comforted her as best as we could, but nothing seemed to help.

The divorce papers were filed and my parents attended the debate in court. Everything had gone smoothly, until my father claimed parental rights on my sister. My mother refused to let him take her and the debate went on some more. When she got home and told us that it would be possible that Ashley would live with our father, we were stunned. As sad as Ashley was, she did not want to lose mom and I. Especially, according to her, “Dad hasn’t come back and apologized yet.”

Working on my English and sociology essays helped distract my thoughts, but never for long. As for the apology letters, I didn’t bother using fancy, heartfelt words. (I was never that type of person anyway.) I was getting lost in thought when my phone buzzed again.

W: I haven’t had the courage to say this to you, but I will say it now: I love you Josh. I have loved you ever since we started high school. You have been the most loyal understanding friend I have ever had. I hope we can see each other soon. You are lucky, remember that.

I should have felt happy for Wendall, it sounded like everything was starting to improve for him. Yet, the fact that he said all those nice things filled me with dread. Also, the fact that he said his same statement, as if he was making some kind of conclusion… After a moment, I shook the feelings off. I figured that it was my depression messing with my mind. I didn’t want to feel more stressed and down than I was already.

The next day arrived and I lay down on the couch, lost in thought. “Good news,” said mom. Ashley perked her head up from the book she was reading. “I have officially divorced Leo and now I have full parental rights to both of you.” Mixed emotions crossed our faces, but, for the most part, we were glad to have peace in our house.

“Oh no,” gasped mom suddenly. “What is it?” I asked. “She showed me a page in the newspaper. I took it and looked at it. There was a picture of a university building. The headline read: “Man commits suicide after being bullied and harassed by peers.” ‘No, it couldn’t possibly be…’ My worst fears were confirmed when they showed a picture of Wendall’s smiling face to the side. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t speak. All I did was stare at it in disbelief, hoping that I was just imagining things. Ashley put a comforting hand on my shoulder.

 ‘I suspected that something was off about him. Why didn’t I say anything? Why didn’t I tell his parents sooner? Maybe if I hadn’t rejected him, none of that would have happened.’ “It’s my fault, he is gone,” I cried. “He was bullied because he was gay and Jewish. He wanted me to love him, to be there for him, but I wasn’t…” “Josh, it’s not your fault,” said my mom, who pulled me into a soft hug. “This world can be a cruel and messed up place, especially so in America.” “Unfortunately he made his choice,” said Ashley. Desperate to be alone, I pulled free and went back to my room.

I was drowning in my personal sorrow. At the same time, I felt more anger rise in me. I was a slave to fate and my insecurity…and I needed to escape.

I went into my father’s office and opened drawers filled with papers, phone chargers and other junk. I searched the bottommost drawer and felt something hard and metal; exactly what I was looking for. A loaded ominous black pistol was in my hands. Back when I was younger, my father had gotten it from somewhere and said he would use for self-defense, or in case an intruder would break in. At one point, he said that he would train my sister and I on gun safety but never got through it. Perhaps he had received it from his American pen pal, who was allowed to have it in America, only to have my father buy it. Someone may have taught him how to make one. Or maybe he planned on using it when he got too drunk, (I am glad he didn’t). Whatever the reason, I now held the key to my ultimate freedom.

My hands trembled as I held it against my forehead. ‘What the heck are you doing?’ I internally screamed to myself. ‘Suicide isn’t going to solve anything!’ I lowered my arm. Then another, less logical voice popped up in my mind. ‘Life isn’t going to get any better. You will only end up losing everything.’ I lifted the pistol back to my face. ‘It is not worth it,’ said the first voice. ‘You are better than this, Josh. You still have a chance to make the most out of your life.’ My heart beat faster with every second that passed. ‘Do you want your pain and misery to completely go away? Do you want to possibly see Wendall and your loved ones again?’ “I don’t know what I want!” I cried.

There was a knock on the door. “Are you okay in there, Josh?” It was the voice of my sister. “I’m fine, Ash,” I called back. “I’ll be out in a minute.” I focused on the cold circular hole against my skin, possibly the last thing I would ever feel. ‘Your mother, your sister, your friends, they need you. The world needs a person like you to make a beneficial difference. Go through this and you will never see them again.’ Tears fell from my eyes and my hands got sweaty. ‘You were never meant to fit in this crazy world. Hurry and do it before it’s too late!’ I cleared my mind and focused.  ‘Please make it quick, please make it quick, please mak…” A loud buzzing noise came from my pocket. I couldn’t believe someone would try and call me at the worst time. Reluctantly, I pulled my phone from my pocket with my other hand and answered. “H-hello?” I stammered. “Hey man, it’s Flynn! I wanted to tell you about the next club meeting. Is everything okay?” “Yes, everything’s fine,” I stuttered. “Obviously not. You sound shaken up.” “I can’t live like this anymore. I…I have to go.” “Dude, no! Don’t you dare leave this Earth!” I looked over and saw Ashley and my mother standing in the now open door way, fear in their faces. “Josh, please don’t do this,” Ashley pleaded. “Everyone, please, s-step back,” I said. I moved back, still holding the gun in one hand and my phone in another. My foot met a black cord and I fell backwards with a yelp. My finger pulled the trigger and a shot rang through the air. I saw a small hole in the ceiling where the bullet went through.

“Josh!” they cried. My sister ran to help me up and my mother kicked the gun away. As they ran over to me, I lost it. I broke down crying in my mother’s arms. She hugged me tight and gently rocked me back and forth. “I’m so sorry.” I chocked, sobbing like a baby. “I will never do that again. I never want to leave any of you.” I meant every word. “We will get through all of this, sweetheart,” mom said. “You are and will always be, my perfect, wonderful son.” I teared up some more, for once, thankful of fate’s unpredictable nature. “Hey, buddy, are you still there?” asked Flynn from the phone. “I better talk to him,” I said, getting up and picking up my phone. A faint smile appeared on my face. “I have a music club to go to, next week.”